Monthly Archives: October 2023

The memories of how you were, socialized to learn the values, the worth money, that came back to mind, in present day, when your wife asks if you want to register for an electronic wallet, so you wouldn’t need to, haul around all that, loose change when you go out…translated…

My wife asked if I needed to set up my LINE Pay account.

It works better, we don’t need to carry the spare changes when we go out, it’d become more and more convenient these days now.  She’d stated this, in a, round and about kind of way.

She knew I liked carrying the spare change with me when I go out, that I’d had to, empty out the change box, put all of the spare change into my pocket, to clink as I walked around out, and, as I’d shopped, if I got the exact change, I get to, get rid of the spare change, and it’d made me feel, even, better.

Don’t know where this habit came from, maybe, back when I was young.

When I was young, I’d loved going out with two people, one of them was my maternal grandfather.

He’d owned a dojo, not only instructed the pupils to fight, but mostly, to treat the injuries, the massage therapy, and, there would be the Taiwanese, and Japanese oldies that played all day long, the place was, for gentlemen.

I was quite young then, slim like a monkey, not tall enough, to be at the height of my grandfather’s hand hanging down, but I wasn’t wild, very quiet in fact, loved the sweets, and the cavities, they took my front teeth away.

And, grandpa would pull his hand out of that oversized sleeve of his suit out, took my hand, told me we were getting some candy, and, the two of us, slowly, strolled to the grocery shop in town, not in a hurry to get there, not in a hurry, to not get, there either, like, on the way, we’d already, finished what we set out to, accomplish already.

There’s the scent of tobacco on my grandfather’s hands, quite thick, to the point of, bitter, so think, that it’d made you think, that if he ran out of cigarettes, he’d get satisfied, smoking his own, hands.  And, because he’d, always, used the, Chinese medicines soaked in alcohol to massage the clients, his hand was, quite, smooth, thick too, like, the cloth grandma placed over the pillows, with the embroidered lovebirds, the hills that went up and down.

Grandpa wasn’t too generous, people of his times, weren’t that generous mostly, when we’d arrived at the grocery shop, he’d told me to choose a candy that’s five dollars or under.  But, five dollars was, not a small amount back then, and I can, get a whole lot already.

“Only choose one, you shouldn’t have that much, snacks!”, every trip, he’d held my hand, and swung it, and stated tome.

It was always, difficult for me to, decide, do I want the orange candy, or the, dried squid?  The red mango strips, or the, popsicle?

My grandfather normally bought the Changshou Cigarettes, the betel nuts with the leaves wrapped around them, or the Shaoxing wine.  And, as I’d finally, made my, selection, he’d, reached into his pocket to pull out the money, sometimes, a handful of coins, sometimes, a wad of, bills.

When grandpa counted out the amounts, I’d always, watched the eyes of the store owner.

At the time, I’d truly felt, that it would be grand, if we had, the money in our, pockets always.

As I got older, I’d started going to school, and, moved out of my grandfather’s home.  On the weekends, I’d gotten to go to my father’s construction site where he’d worked as a helper to him.  There were the tools on his belt always, the screw drivers, the craft knife, the saw and the, hammer, at the time, he was, a carpenter.

The working class, needed a lot of energy to work, and, as they ran out of stamina physically, they’d started, draining their own, will, dry, so a lot of spiritual foods are, needed, the alcohols, the betel nuts.  They’d laughed and talked in the saw dusts, with the loud volume of ads selling the medicines playing on the radio, telling the jokes unfitting for a child’s, ears, at break, they’d found a spot on the ground, lain themselves down, started, napping, the clothes they’d worn to work in the morn, as dirty as the clothes they’d left work in the day before.

I worked really hard to at the construction sites, the workers called out to me to buy them the cigarettes, the betel nuts, and, as noontime came, they’d called out to me to buy the meals, the betel nuts, the drinks for them again.  Every time I’d run the errands, I’d made some sums of small income, I’d gotten to keep the changes, and I’d, made the money too then.

My father was the foreman, and, from time to time, he’d, stood in place, and worked as the workers didn’t show up, there’s that smell of cigarettes in his hands too, with the scars, his skins were cracked, like the pieces of wood he’d worked on, sawed open, or maybe, the aromas of the chunks of wood got on his, hands too.

the meaning of loose change to you…defined by your earliest childhood experiences…photo from online

The workers started hollering they wanted the cigarettes, the betel nuts, some drinks, normally, it was my father who’d pulled the money out of his pockets for them, he’d given me the changes every now and then, and, from time to time, he’d, asked for them back, and, placed the change in his pocket, and they’d made the loud noises as he’d, worked.

Later I’d come to know, that only when I showed up, would the workers started, calling out.

How I’d loved hearing them hollered.  Every time my father placed the money in my hands, I’d felt, quite, satisfactory, like it wasn’t, just, money, it was, something, more.

But what?  I still don’t know to this, very day.

It’s just, that I’d, discussed the matter of money with my wife, and all I’d remembered, where the things about people from my younger years.  And I’d still, just, registered for the LINE Pay accounts.

So, this is the values of money, what money meant, from your younger years, and, the value of money is assigned.  You’d loved how it’d felt, with the heavy changes in your pockets, because that made you feel useful, based off of your childhood experiences with your father.